


Lesbian of the Lake

by ruff_ethereal



Series: Saga of a Disastrous Bisexual [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Edelgard is very bi for Byleth and cannot handle that, F/F, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: Saturday has come, and Edelgard tries to both salvage her art class grade, and survive her make-up class (notdate) with Professor Byleth at Garreg Mach's lake.





	Lesbian of the Lake

Saturday arrived, and brought with it dark, gray clouds that didn’t hesitate to dump all their contents on Garreg Mach and the adjacent town. While the downpour and the winds weren’t strong enough to force people to stay inside for their own safety, it was chilly and wet enough to make most everyone debate whether or not it was worth venturing out for anything.

It really would have been a simple matter to call Byleth’s office and leave a message on her answering machine. Hell, Edelgard could have skipped that and just spoke with her tomorrow in her other classes with her, weather permitting. And of course, Byleth would probably totally understand if Edelgard never showed up to their outdoor make-up class, seeing as she did not call or leave a message on the Black Eagle’s answering machine to relocate it.

But still, Edelgard ventured out to Garreg Mach’s lake, clad in her bright red raincoat, wielding an umbrella in one hand, and her bag with her art supplies in the other.

“By the Goddess, Edie, you have it so bad for the Professor!” Dorothea said as she caught Edelgard putting on her rain boots. “Nothing and no one’s going to stop you from heading out to your little date, is there?” She smiled cheekily. “Don’t you worry, though: no one’s going to hear a word of this out from me. Just promise me that you’ll stay safe, and more importantly, that you’re going to enjoy yourself, okay~?”

Edelgard ignored her, though her cheeks still turned flaming red. “This is not a date,” she thought as she headed out the door, and was immediately greeted with an unpleasant blast of freezing cold wind. “This is just a make-up class, like any other student would have.”

She briefly wondered how Dorothea still thought that, after Edelgard had _most assuredly_ proved this wasn’t a romantic date, on the same day Dorothea ever brought up the ridiculous notion, before she decided it was best to just focus on where she was going.

A mist had begun to rise, obscuring some of the signs and paths, and the lake was not a place she visited with any regularity.

* * *

Long ago, when Garreg Mach was at its prime, the lake was instead a fishing pond, a carefully maintained man-made structure that was looked after day in and day out by the staff to make sure its diverse ecosystem of fish was healthy, and would be available to feed and entertain the monastery’s inhabitants for generations to come. After thousands of years of decay, natural disasters, and remodeling or neglect, however, it now looked more like a lake with untamed plant-life, muddy banks, and crumbling ruins. Few wanted to consume anything that came from its waters, too, when much more diverse options could be cheaply and conveniently delivered from most anywhere you pleased, thanks to modern supply chains.

The day the lake was to be walled off, historians and preservationists of the Church of Seiros cried foul. There was much protest, rage, tears, and strongly-worded letters, but the administration was firm in their decision, and all the other residents’ and tourists’ opinions were clear: the lake was an eyesore, full of biological hazards, and Garreg Mach had other,_ much _more historically and aesthetically pleasing locations and structures that could use the funds and attention.

And so a barricade was erected, and the lake was eventually forgotten.

Nowadays, there were only a handful of individuals who ventured through its one, tiny, nearly invisible gate: biology students with their teachers; groundskeepers doing pest control; and Professor Byleth, who liked to fish there on her free days.

When asked why she chose the lake when other, more popular fishing spots were just a short bus ride away, her only answer was, “I feel a special connection to this place.”

And right now, watching her from a distance, Edelgard wouldn’t have doubted the claim for a second. Professor Byleth just looked so… at home in this forgotten corner of Garreg Mach, standing on an ancient, moss-and-fungus covered pier, clad in a nondescript raincoat, and holding a worn wooden fishing rod. Edelgard rather wished that this was a photography assignment instead, because with a little experimentation and someone helping keep moisture from the lens, this would make a _fantastic _shot.

For better or worse, however, Edelgard was without a camera, and her perfect school record was a much more important concern. “Professor!” she called out. “I’m here for our make-up class!”

Byleth looked over her shoulder, and it must have been the poor visibility from the mist, because Edelgard could have _sworn _she just saw Byleth smile as she waved at her. She took her line out of the water, and walked down the dock to the shelter of a very large tree.

Edelgard decided to meet her there, found that there was a tarpaulin laid out to provide a layer between the muddy ground, two fold-out chairs—one with Professor Byleth’s bag on it—a camp light, a tackle box, and a thermos with two metal cups stacked on top of it.

Dorothea’s words echoed in her mind:_“I would bet __anything __that the moment you show up, there’s a blanket set out with tea and snacks for two alongside her art supplies, for __well__ after you’ve both put the sketchbooks and pencils away.” _

Edelgard vigorously shook her head. “This isn’t a date,” she thought, scowling.

“Are you alright, Edelgard?” Byleth asked, looking at her in concern.

“Oh, yes, perfectly fine!” Edelgard said, putting on what she hoped was a convincing look of good health and complete lack of distress. “Shall we proceed with the portrait drawing now, Professor?”

“We could, but would you like some tea first?” Byleth said, gesturing to the thermos. “It’s really rather cold and miserable today.”

“No thank you, Professor, but I very much appreciate your being so considerate.” Edelgard said as she closed her umbrella, and set it aside. “May I sit down, please?” she asked as she took off her raincoat and laid it out on the side.

“Go ahead.” Byleth said as she rested her fishing pole against the tree trunk, put away her lures and bait into her tackle box. “You’ll have to work without a canvas and poor lighting this time, I hope you’re fine with that.”

“Oh, I am, Professor!” Edelgard said as she sat with her bag on her lap, pulled out her sketchbook and a pencil. “Please, just worry about getting comfortable.”

Byleth nodded. She casually undid and shrugged off her raincoat, revealing the plain shirt she wore, its sleeves so short her muscular, shapely, scarred arms were almost completely bare.

_Crack._

Edelgard’s pencil broke in her hand, so unevenly fractured and splintered it would have been difficult to sharpen, let alone draw with the largest pieces afterward.

Byleth blinked. “What was _that?”_

“Nothing!” Edelgard squeaked as she hurriedly shoved the broken pencil into her bag, brushed the splinters off her palm. “Just a minor accident, but not to worry: I brought a _second _pencil!”

Byleth nodded, before she put down her raincoat, then sat down on her chair.

Edelgard pulled out her spare, and quietly resolved to be _much _more careful with it. She looked at Byleth, and inadvertently witnessed her shaking her long and luxurious hair out, before combing it with her hands, unintentionally giving Edelgard a good whiff of her shampoo.

_Crack._

Edelgard’s second pencil _also_ broke in her hand, in much the same manner as the first.

Byleth blinked. “Did you happen to bring a _third _pencil…?”

“… I…” Edelgard looked to the side “…did not.”

“Well, there goes my perfect academic record!” Edelgard thought. When she finally worked up the will to look back at Byleth and apologize, she found Byleth holding out a pencil to her.

“Please be more careful with this, I only have one other pencil and would still like to draw your portrait.” Byleth said, without anger nor annoyance, just the usual bluntness.

Edelgard’s eyes widened. She hesitantly reached out to it with a trembling hand, before she gently took it into her hands. “I will, Professor,” she said with an even tone. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

Byleth nodded, then turned on the camp light, positioned it so her face would be lit up decently in the gloomy weather. “Are you ready to begin now, Edelgard?”

“One moment, please, Professor.” Edelgard said, before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’ve been blindsided by this woman and your utterly_ ridiculous _attraction to her too many times already,” she thought as she slowly let it go. “It is time for _business, _Edelgard, no more nonsense of any sort.”

“Alright,” Edelgard said as she opened her eyes, her expression serious. “I’m ready.”

Byleth nodded, and raised her watch-arm. “You have exactly one hour starting… now.”

Edelgard set to work instantly, every line, every motion deliberate and smooth.

She had learned from all the previous disastrous attempts at portrait drawing, she would not fall into the same pitfalls again. She now knew _exactly _what to do, thanks to rigorous self-reflection and unflinchingly critical examination, and she would finally produce a piece representative of her artistic talent. She had _also _drawn Byleth a number of times _long _before and after that infamous art class, from photographs, memory, or stolen looks, but no one would ever have to find out about _those._

So it was that well before the end of her hour, Edelgard proudly returned Byleth’s pencil and showed off her work. “I believe this is an acceptable output, don’t you think, Professor?” she asked, smiling.

Byleth looked at it, and nodded. “It’s quite good, Edelgard. Excellent attention to detail.”

“You know me, Professor.” Edelgard said as she very carefully ripped it out of her sketchbook, and handed it to Byleth. “Nothing less than absolute _perfection.”_

Byleth nodded as she put it in an envelope, then inside her briefcase. “Would you like to take a break before I draw your portrait?”

“No need, Professor.” Edelgard said as she shifted in her seat, fixed her hair and her posture. “What will I do for the next hour or so but be quiet and sit still, anyway?” she asked, chuckling.

“You don’t have to,” Byleth said as she adjusted the camp light. “I’d actually prefer it if we could talk while I draw you.”

Edelgard reeled like she had just been sucker-punched. “Y-You would…?” she stammered as she tried to recover.

“It’s what I like to do whenever I draw someone’s portrait.” Byleth replied.

“O-Oh.” Edelgard said, blinking. She was quiet for a moment, before she said, “Is this a regular thing for you, Professor? Drawing people’s portraits?”

“Not really.” Byleth said as she looked up at Edelgard, before hand was gliding smoothly and swiftly on the page.

“So it’s a special occasion when you do?” Edelgard asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yes.” Byleth replied, still drawing.

Edelgard nodded, before she caught herself and stopped, moved her head back to roughly the same position as before. “I have to admit, Professor, I never pegged you for the artistic type.”

“I teach your art class.”

“Ah—my apologies! What I meant to say was, I’m surprised you do art for leisure.” Edelgard said. “Your degree was in physical education, you were a prominent student athlete, and most everything you do in your free-days involves physical activity, be it fishing, gardening, or running around doing all manner of errands.

“It’s just… you never seem to slow down, Professor.”

“But sometimes I have to.” Byleth said.

“Ah.” Edelgard almost nodded again, before she caught herself and stopped. “Injuries?”

“Yes, or other things. Sometimes it’s long road trips. Sometimes it’s bad weather. Sometimes it’s because I just want to capture something, but there’s no time to get film, buy a disposable camera, or I can’t take a photo.”

“What and who have you drawn, exactly, Professor?” Edelgard asked.

Byleth looked up from her sketchbook and directly at Edelgard. “Where do you want to start?” she asked, before they began to talk about what Byleth had drawn over the years:

Memorable individuals Byleth had met thanks to her father’s nomadic lifestyle, either on the road or wherever she called home for a few months or so. The views outside all manner of windows, from picturesque outdoor scenes, impressive city skylines, to long, winding stretches of road flanked by fields and land that seemed to go on forever. Incidents and events that had burned into her mind, like the very first time Jeralt had taken her to a Glam Rock concert, and she’d witnessed a man with outrageously large hair hit an impossibly high note as blindingly bright sparks and fire erupted all around him.

Edelgard could have talked for hours, she enjoyed learning so much about Byleth and the massive treasure trove of mysteries and fascinating stories that was her past before Garreg Mach, but of course, she had to finish her portrait eventually.

“Alright, I’m done,” Byleth said, putting her pencil back inside her bag.

“So soon?” Edelgard asked.

“It’s not supposed to be a super detailed portrait.” Byleth replied as she blew off some eraser dust.

Edelgard nodded. She chewed her lip for a moment, looking conflicted.

“Would you like to see it?” Byleth asked.

Edelgard blinked. “I—um—yes, I would, Professor.”

Byleth held up the portrait.

Normally, when people drew or painted a portrait of Edelgard, the end result would be that of a woman with fierce eyes that felt years if not decades older, absolutely perfect posture, and the expression of a refined and stoic noblewoman—or if you wanted to be more modern, the picture of a high-power female executive who would stand for no one’s nonsense, regardless of age, gender, or rank.

Now, Edelgard just had to stare, surprised at what she saw: a picture of a young girl, eyes bright and posture relaxed, an unambiguous smile on her face.

“What do you think?” Byleth asked.

There was, as usual, no noticeable tone to her voice, no smile, no frown, no slight twitches of the mouth or the corners of the eye, no unusual or sudden shifts in her vision—Byleth was simply asking for Edelgard’s opinion.

“It...” she started, before she found herself at a loss for words.

Her mind raced: “Since when did I last look this happy? What was the Professor thinking this whole time she was drawing me? Will this change how she thinks of me…?”

“‘It’…?” Byleth repeated, now looking at her expectantly.

“… It’s _beautiful_, Professor.” Edelgard said, her lips curling into a bigger smile, until she realized what she had just said and the tone she had said it with, and her features nigh-instantly contorted into panic.

Fortunately for her, Byleth’s attention was all entirely on her sketchbook, carefully tearing out the portrait, slipping it into a different envelope then into her bag for safekeeping. “That’s it for today, Edelgard,” she said as she zipped it up. “If you don’t want to stay for tea, you can just go now.”

“I would actually like that tea now, Professor.” Edelgard said. “But before that: I have a question.”

“What is it?” Byleth asked as she pulled off the cups, and unscrewed the lid of the thermos.

“You mentioned that you only ever want to draw portraits of people you find very interesting. So…” Edelgard hesitated for a moment “… what is it that you find so fascinating about me, Professor Byleth?”

Byleth paused, holding the thermos over her lap, before she shrugged. “I don’t really know how to put it into words, Edelgard. But there is one thing I know for sure.”

Edelgard’s cheeks began to turn pink. “What is it…?”

“I really like you, Edelgard.” Byleth said, smiling so radiantly it was like she was producing her own light.

* * *

“Holy shit.” Lysithea said, nearly dropping the slice of cake in her hand.

“Lysithea!” Dorothea hissed. “Language!”

“She’s right, though.” Hilda said, nodding as she sipped her tea.

“Don’t encourage her...” Dorothea said dryly, before she turned back to Edelgard. “Then what happened next?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us!” Annette said, bouncing in her seat. “You can’t just leave us in suspense after that!”

Edelgard sighed heavily, before she put her head in her hands and focused her eyes on the tea table. “Well...”

* * *

Edelgard let out a high-pitched scream, bolted out of her seat and knocked it down as she fled from camp in a blind panic. Too late did she realize that she was running straight towards the water, and when she tried to turn around, she slipped on a patch of muddy, unstable ground, twisted her ankle, and crashed onto the bank in a giant explosion of mud and muck.

* * *

Hilda snorted. Annette slapped her hands over her mouth and failed to suppress a bout of giggles. Dorothea looked extremely pained as she tried to look sympathetic, but her muscles were trying their damnedest to smile instead.

Lysithea just looked at Edelgard in deep disappointment. _“Wow. _And here I thought you were the most mature, composed, and reasonable of all of us...”

Edelgard groaned, and let her head hit the tea table.

_Thud._

“You don’t understand, Lysithea!” Edelgard sobbed into the antique wood. “She’s just… so… _attractive!”_

Dorothea recovered and patted Edelgard on the shoulder. “There, there, Edie… I’m sure that you can work this out with the Professor soon enough.”

“I really, _really _can’t…” Edelgard said through tears.

“You’re going to _have _to, though.” Hilda hummed. “I mean, I’m all for avoiding responsibility when I can, but this is just one of those things that’ll definitely snowball into a huge pain in the ass the longer you leave it alone.”

“I know.” Edelgard said, face still down. “That’s why I have a plan.”

“Which is…?” Lysithea asked.

“I’m going to drop out of school, and take on a new identity. Then, I’m going to re-enroll under my new persona, and pointedly avoid any of Professor Byleth’s classes.”

Lysithea stared. “… Are you fucking _serious?!”_

“Language!” Dorothea hissed.

“You’re missing the more important issue, Dorothea!” Lysithea said, throwing her hands up. “Edelgard seems to seriously think she could pull off this harebrained scheme!”

“I mean, she does have Hubert!” Annette said. “That’s kind of his specialty, right?”

“_Don’t encourage her!”_ Lysithea yelled.

“Okay, everybody, calm down!” Dorothea said, standing up and spreading out her arms. “We’re causing a scene, and it’s not helping Edie any!”

Reluctantly or not, everyone except Edelgard went quiet and focused on their tea and the cake, until she lifted her head off the table, wiped away her tears, and looked somewhat composed.

“Are you feeling better now, Edie?” Dorothea asked.

“Somewhat...” Edelgard said, before she morosely sipped her tea. “I’m _so _hopeless, aren’t I?”

“Preee-tty much.” Hilda hummed.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘Yes.’ to that.” Annette said.

“I know, but there comes a point when you’re not being polite, you’re just flat-out denying reality, much like our friend here.” Hilda said, before she put her tea down on her saucer. “Edelgard, just save yourself a whole lot of humiliation and figurative or literal pain: fess up to Professor B. I don’t know what’s going to happen after, but it’s better than _this, _that’s for sure.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, Hilda?” Edelgard snapped, narrowing her eyes at her. “I _can’t.”_

“So then why not ask other people for help?” Hilda countered. “I mean, _we’re_ available…?” she said, gesturing around the table.

Lysithea nearly choked on her latest bite of cake. “Wait, what?!” she barked after chewing and swallowing.

“It looks like we really have no choice,” Dorothea said, nodding sagely. “Everyone: we’re going to help Edie with her crush.”

“Oh, this is going be so much fun...” Hilda said, clasping her hands together.

“Yeah!” Annette cried. “I could even write a song to help her—though, you know, Dorothea will probably have to be singing it as mood music than Edelgard herself. Unless you really want to try…?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Hold on a moment!” Edelgard cried. “You girls can’t just _decide _to involve yourself in my non-existent love life, just like that!”

“I second that!” Lysithea said. “I never agreed to _any _of this, and more to the point, I don’t like the sound of it, either!”

“Come on, Lysithea, can you really stand to see Edelgard over here just floundering and suffering?” Hilda asked sweetly.

“Normally, no, but _this _is because she’s refusing to be an adult about her problems.” Lysithea replied. “I’m not some babysitter who has to solve their kids’ messes for them,” she finished, crossing her arms.

“She’s right,” Edelgard said, nodding. “This is _my _issue, I need to figure out how to deal with it on my own.”

“No you’re not going to, Edie.” Dorothea said. “You said it yourself: you can’t. So now we’re going to help you, because we’re your friends, and we care about you,” she added, nodding.

“And also because this is the most entertaining thing that’s happened to this school in _way _too long.” Hilda continued, also nodding.

“Oh, man, I’ve already got so many ideas of how we can totally do this!” Annette said, pulling out a pocket-sized notebook and scribbling in it.

“You mean how _you four _are doing this,” Lysithea said. “I’m not going to be a part of this nonsense,” she said, turning her nose up.

“Not even if we promise you cake…?” Dorothea asked.

Lysithea peered at her with one eye. “I’m not going to be so easily swayed!”

“But if I mention that I have someone who knows someone in Paradis Pâtisserie, who _just _so happens to owe me a huge favour…?” Dorothea continued.

Lysithea turned her nose down. “… I’m listening.”

Edelgard groaned. “Everyone, please: come to your senses! Or at least spare some thought for myself: my pride and my ankle are already injured, are we really going to intentionally put me through more hell?”

“Yes, because you’re going to be out of it at the end, I promise.” Dorothea said warmly.

“Heck, maybe you’ll even find yourself going _all the way _up to heaven if we’re lucky,” Hilda teased.

Dorothea scowled at her, Annette looked amused, and Edelgard looked mortified.

“What’s so funny?” Lysithea asked, clueless. “Is this some kind of inside joke?”

“Don’t worry about it, Lysithea.” Dorothea said, smiling at her. “Just worry about how we’re going to help Edie deal with her feelings.”

As the whole table began to go into serious plans and discussions about dealing with her crush on Professor Byleth, Edelgard wondered just how and when exactly her life had spiraled so horribly out of her control.

Elsewhere, inside a small, sparsely decorated apartment, Byleth gloomily put Edelgard’s portrait into a suitcase full of pencil sketches. “What did I do wrong…?” she wondered.


End file.
